


The Day Between Saturday and Sunday

by notverypunkofme



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Dirty Talk, Domestic, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, Hipster Harry, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Male-Female Friendship, Sex, Student Niall, University, girl!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:16:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notverypunkofme/pseuds/notverypunkofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>„I´m sure you are a brilliant kisser,“ Harry smiles back, grins even, happy that Niall looks alright again.</i><br/><i>Only his words obviously surprises her, and her shoulders tense again, and she´s gnawing at her lower lip, looking away.></i><br/>Harry finds out that his best mate Niall is a very good kisser, indeed. Just what he tought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to Kristy and Brontee with Brit who did the beta job <3

“Hi, Niall”, Harry shouts from the hall, taking of his suede chelsea boots hastily. “How are you?”

He steps in the kitchen where Niall is sitting on the chair, her old iphone in her hands. She greets him back, eyes glued to the cracked screen.

Harry nods and goes to his room to drop off his backpack. He remembers it was Niall´s date tonight, and that she´s back a bit too early.

He walks back in the kitchen area nonchalantly, opening the fridge in a search for food.

“How was the date?” he asks, inspecting the Tupperware containers with leftovers.

“´t was okay,“ he hears Niall answer monotonously. Which means she´s been playing Sugar Crush or some other silly game that needs her attention. She´s too cute like this, Harry thinks, putting an old pasta with pesto in microwave and setting up the time. Her tongue is peeking out in concentration, and she’s frowning slightly. There are still some freckles on her nose and her cheeks from the summer, even though it’s October already. Niall doesn´t tan as easily as Harry does, always gets sun-burnt and Harry has to put aloe vera lotion on her back and shoulders afterwards, but she´s got a healthy skin colour. She´s wearing a plain white t-shirt with cut-out neckline, because her favourite thing to do is to customise her over-sized tops bought in charity and vintage shops, cutting bits off and calling it do-it-yourself projects. Harry always laughs at her for that, and finds his missing band t-shirts in her wardrobe too often. Which he shouldn´t find so endearing really. Her skinny legs are folded underneath her and they are bare, her toenails painted bright yellow.

“Fuck, Nialler, aren´t you cold, mate?“ Harry points out, taking the opposite seat.

„Nah.“

„And could you talk to me, plese?“ he reaches over, snatching the phone out of her hands.

„Hey!“ Niall protests, snatching it back. „Rude,“ she sticks out her tongue at Harry, but doesn´t go back to playing with it.

He can see now, that Niall´s face is different. Different than usually in a really strange way. Her eyes are much bluer somehow, and her lips pinker. She looks good. Harry straightens up unconsciously, processing the information. He realises then, that Niall´s wearing make-up. She must have put on some kind of black stuff- mascara or eyecolor or something, however they call it- and it´s the contrast that makes the colour of her eyes stand out. It´s actually really visible since her eyelashes are sort of light normally.

„What?“ Niall barks out, eyeing him suspiciously.

Harry comes to himself again, knowing that he’d been staring.

„Uhm- how- how was the date?“ He knows he did ask this before, but a proper answer would be nice. The microwave beeps, and he gets up to fetch the food, before settling down again. Niall´s started playing with them hem of her t-shirt, staring blankly at it.

„It was ok, I told you. We went to Kensington Gardens for a walk and had a terrible coffee. And overpriced,“ Niall points out. She´s not a big coffee fan anyway, drinks only the sweet kinds that Harry makes for her in the coffee place where he works part-time.

„We talked and it was- cool, I s´pose.“ She makes a weird face, looking up, like she´s trying to remember something not very pleasant- but then maybe not, and Harry doesn´t know what to think of it.

„Then we were hungry so he took me to Nandos.“

„Nandos!“ Harry shouts out excitedly but not too loudly, because it gets muffled by the pasta in his mouth. „This bloke really must know a way to your heart,“ he grins.

„Yeah?“ Niall looks up from her lap. „But after all of that I wanted him to kiss me, I mean, I thought we would- but it seemed like he didn’t even, like, want to and I think there was a bit of chicken stuck in my braces!“ Niall finishes, nearly screaming it, eyes wide, and Harry knows she´s not happy and he feels awful for her.

„Oh,“ he breathes out, his gaze dropping to her mouth mindlessly.

„I mean- I don´t know!“ Niall stands up abruptly, wiping at her mouth angrily. „But he did not kiss me and it was all so stupid.“

Niall´s been self-conscious about her braces since the day the put them on, which has been about two years now. And before, she was so unhappy about her slightly crooked teeth. So it was supposed to be a good thing, the braces, and in fact they haven´t stopped Niall from laughing like crazy, showing them off to everyone. But Harry could imagine that girls take these things very seriously. The beauty things and shit.

Also, there´s a weight being lifted from Harry´s chest when Niall mentions the not kissing. He can´t explain why would he feel relieved, because it´s not like he wants to pull Niall- duh- and actually it´s mostly him who hangs out with other people, comes home late and smelling like sex and alcohol. And everyone loves Niall- their mutual friends and then tons of people in her school, but Harry´s well aware of the status he´s got. That he´s Niall´s favourite person. And he likes it like that.

„Did you want him to?“ Harry asks finally, looking at Niall who´s leaning back on the wooden kitchen counter, looking pissed and biting on her fingernail.

She shrugs, her long blond hair swinging over her shoulder. And it´s not as messy as usual, but sleek and shiny, which means she used Harry´s conditioner and straightened it too. Harry likes her badly bleached hair messy. It´s very punk-rock.

„I shaved my legs, Harry,“ she says, pointing at her legs, as if it explained everything. „So yes, I wanted to get kissed,“ she admits and sighs. There´s more to come, Harry can tell, because she takes another breath. So he waits patiently.

„Maybe he didn´t want to because of the braces? Like, maybe he thought it´s gross.“

Harry hates how Niall´s voice gets all quiet and how small she looks, she even stops fidgeting.

„Nonsense,“ he answers slowly, cautiously, because Niall in this state is something completely new, they never talk about her and boys. Harry loves sharing his sex encounters with her, making her laugh and call him a pig, but it´s strictly one-sided. „Bollocks,“ he adds to sound more serious.

„What d´ya think of girls with braces? Would you want to kiss them?“

And where´s this one coming from? Harry´s taken aback by how aggressive Niall sounds, like it´s his fault. Since when is this about him?

„Why not?“ Harry says, scraping a fork around the empty bowl lazily. To be honest, Harry has never kissed girls with braces, when it comes to it. But he doesn´t think he would be grossed over it, like, why? And he never gave much thoughts to Niall´s braces. It´s getting silly.

„Look, Niall, just chill, yea? That guy was a dickhead, and your braces were not the issue, I´m sure,“ Harry reassures as he goes to put the bowl into a dishwasher.

„He was just a dick,“ he repeats resolutely, closing the dishwasher with his hip, and leaning on it, arms crossed over his chest.

They are both standing like that, next to the counter, not saying a word. They are comfortable in their silence, just as usual, but Niall still looks deep in thoughts and sort of unhappy which concerns Harry. And she´s still wearing only the t-shirt (with pants underneath hopefully, which he can´t really see now) and no socks or anything else, and that concerns him too, because he doesn´t want her to get ill.

„Niall-". Harry starts, making a step towards her. But before he can convince her to put on more clothes, she kind of jumps.

„I wanted to kiss him! He was really handsome and I wanted to. Because- because I haven´t kissed anyone properly forever, and I don´t even know if I would do it in the right… way…“ she blushes, she god damn blushes, and Harry doesn´t know how to react.

„Niall,“ Harry says again, softly, putting a hand on her arm, tugging her closer to his side.

„Harry, I don´t have many experiences with boys. Not like you with girls. I´m not-“

And he has to stop her there, because he can´t take it anymore.

„Why are you saying this? Why are you putting yourself down like this?“ his words are as sincere as he can make them sound, because he genuinely cares for Niall and her being insecure like this makes him fucking mental. Of course Niall´s avoiding his eyes, but that´s not stopping Harry.

„You are so cute, and smart and you play football in a wicked way, and you have this great sense of humor!“ He´s raised his voice too now, at the same time hoping he´s not scaring her. So he starts stroking her hair affectionately, propping his chin lightly on the crown of her head while the girl leans on him more heavily.

„Thank you,“ she murmurs, bumping their hips together. She sniffles a bit, but Harry knows she hasn´t been crying.

„Sorry. I´m being stupid,“ she moves away from him and gives him a little tight smile.

„I´m sure you are a brilliant kisser,“ Harry smiles back, grins even, happy that Niall looks alright again.

Only his words obviously surprises her, and her shoulders tense again, and she´s gnawing at her lower lip, looking away.

„I actually- „ she lets out an awkward laugh, „haven´t kissed anyone in two years. And, like, before that it doesn´t even count.“

They are both nineteen now, and Harry´s doing a quick math in his head. He´s sure he saw Niall bring lads back home, or at least that she mentioned someone… But he can´t remember anyone. Which is odd. Because he honestly believes that she´s a pretty girl. Sure, she is a tad shy, but he would never guessed it´s causing her boys-related troubles. Or whatnot. The truth is, he hasn´t cared about this all that much, and it makes him feel fucking shitty. Because they are there for each other at all times, and if Niall feels like she can´t talk to him about something that´s bothering her- well- that, that´s not good….

„C´m here,“ Harry beckons quietly. Niall eyes him suspiciously, but makes a tiny step forward. Harry stretches his arms, pulling her to him the rest of the way softly.

Their chests and thighs touch, Harry also immediately knows that Niall´s not wearing a bra. He can´t explain what comes next.

„Show me how you can kiss, baby,“ and he means to say it jokingly, he does, but it comes out rougher that he was expecting. In the spring of the moment, he leans down, and presses his lips to Niall´s thinner ones.

She gasps and it´s more of an air escaping her mouth really, before she parts her lips to let Harry slip his tongue inside. He can feel how uncertain Niall is. He´s sure she´s going to pull away the second he feels the metal of her braces against the tip of his tongue. So he raises his right hand to cup her cheek in it, tilting her the right way, helping her out to get into the most comfortable angle possible, holding her close. He takes the lead at the beginning, softly licking into her mouth, only the subtles hints of tongue and a lot of nipping and lips sucking. Niall tastes so familiar, even though they never did this before, and Harry wants more. He brings his other arm up to pull her closer, resting it on the small of her back.

Niall whimpers and lays her hands carefully on Harry´s shoulders. She´s much smaller than Harry, so she must be standing on her tiptoes. She tilts her chin up and goes for it, stroking Harry´s tongue with hers, biting softly on his lower lip and licking over it playfully. Harry gladly lets her take over, enjoying her boldness.

Their berating speeds up gradually, and it´s harder and harder to get enough air into their lungs. It might be the faintness that makes Harry grab Niall´s legs, turn them around and hoist her on the flat of the kitchen counter. Successfully, without bumping Niall´s head on the cupboards above.

She squeaks and laughs, throwing her head back. The move bares her pale throat and Harry leans in, kissing her neck, sucking on the warm skin and peppering it with butterfly kisses. She smells flowery and fresh, like clean linens, and he knows it´s the Chloé perfume Gemma gave her last Christmas.

Niall´s hands have found their way in his hair, combing through it, and a groan of pleasure escapes from his mouth. This time, Niall pulls his hair more forcefully, making him look up.

„You are a good kisser, Niall Horan,“ Harry says in a daze, taking in Niall´s shining eyes and flushed cheeks. She´s smiling widely down at him.

„Too good, to be quite honest,“ Harry adds and they both laugh.

He´s still gripping her bare thighs.

* * *

Later, when Harry lays in his bed, and the curtains are closed but there´s still some light from the street coming through and making creepy shadows on the ceiling, he thinks about kissing Niall. How surprisingly good and natural it felt. He didn´t get hard or anything, even though it was somehow erotic, but it was more about intimacy, like extension of all the things they’ve been sharing between them during the eight years old relationship.

Harry sighs, turning on his other side, listens to their flatmates´ steps from the room above. Niall did shave her legs, just how she told him. He could feel the softness under his palms when touching her. The fine, golden hairs absent, her skin smooth and cool.

She jumped down from the counter after that, saying „thanks, mate“ with a cheeky grin and finally went to put on some proper clothes. Surprised, he realizes how much offended he was by being called „mate“ in that situation. Even when Harry calls Niall „mate“ all the time, and Niall never complains.

He falls asleep soon after with a frown on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2. I´m not sure how many chapters there´ll be yet, but I don´t want to strech it too much.  
> Also, Merry Christmas, I hope everyone´s enjoying the spirit of this season :)

Harry´s sitting on his unmade bed, flipping through glossy pages of the new issue of Wonderland. The bloody thing cost him £5, but it´s hard to resist, he´s so into contemporary fashion (art!), buying a pile of different types of avant-garde magazines every month. Which also leads to Niall having to pay his part of the rent from her student loan, because he´s broke most of the time. Of course he pays it back to her as soon as he gets his salary from the coffee shop.

To be honest, he would be rather sleeping than reading right now, but Niall´s got someone over for the guitar lessons, and the person is not very good. At all. They keep screwing up every chord, even Harry can tell this much from what he knows about playing guitar from Niall, and he can´t stop rolling his eyes every time that happens. Plus they laugh obnoxiously and loud in the pauses, turning Harry´s light headache into proper migraine. Well, it could be all the white wine Nick made him drink the night before, when he thinks about it. Getting drunk on Sunday nights is highly irresponsible, and shouldn´t be done, like, ever. On the other side, it was a good party all over, stylish people overload, yummy canapes and a sick DJ from Netherlands. Or Belgium. Maybe. Some of Nick´s friend were opening a little shop with their own jewellery designs close to Brick Lane, and he brought him along. Harry knew a few other people there, but it´s always thrilling to meet someone new, to see how they´ll perceive his own personal style and what they´ll say about his point of view on things like Panos Yiapanis aesthetics, Mulberry´s handbag crisis or The Times appointing Anna Murphy as a new fashion director. 

These conversations are not as pretentious as Niall thinks. After third glass of expensive champagne. Maybe they are, a bit, but Harry still loves talking about fashion business and less impressive stuff too, like him interning for this almost-unknown independent magazine with offices in Battersea. So NOT hipster.

There´s a really loud string of hahahah, which Harry knows by heart and recognises as Niall´s happy laugh. He puts the magazine aside, closing it and staring at Taylor Swift on the cover. Okay, maybe Wonderland is not that avant-garde, but it´s still better than fucking Vogue, and he might have a little crush on Taylor Swift, looking almost beyond recognition with the thick eyebrows and lack of make-up. That´s beside the point. The point is, that it´s 5pm which means the end of the lesson.

Harry gets up, puts back on his favourite black skinny jeans, tucking his grey cotton t-shirt in, then untucking it. 

He opens the door to go sit on the sofa in the extended part of kitchen which they use as a sitting room or whatever. He can´t wait to have a serious word with Niall about noisy instrument playing and thin walls. He´s feeling smug.

Except all of his artfully practised smugness disappears from his face the second a boy exits her room, with Niall following him closely. He is probably the best-looking person Harry has ever seen. Even better looking than David Gandy and Doutzen Kroes together. His skin is toffee coloured, his hair so artfully messy in a way that Harry or Nick will never ever achieve, he´s got pouty, full lips and gorgeous bone structure. Harry wants to ring his friend Layla to sign him up with Storm Models immediately.

„Harry, hey,“ Niall says when she spots him there.

„Hey“ Harry forces out, putting himself together, and trying to appear as chill as possible. He waits for her to introduce the bloke, who is standing there, obviously not knowing what to do.

„This is Zayn,“ she motions to the guy in a red flannel shirt- Zayn. „Zayn, Harry, my flatmate.“ _Flatmate._

„Hi, nice to meet you,“ Harry smiles, being all polite. But he doesn´t move.

„Whas up,“ the Zayn bloke murmurs, nodding his head a bit. Then he turns back to Niall, as if Harry´s a piece of furniture, and starts making plans for next week.

„Yea, sure. You can come either on Monday or on Wednesday, the same time…“ he can hear Niall saying, and then some more. But he´s too busy eyeing Zayn, well aware that the expression on his face can´t be considered as polite or friendly anymore.

They hug before Zayn leaves, and everything´s quiet again. Harry´s headache isn´t any better.

„Who was it?“ Harry asks, forgetting all about telling Niall off.

„Zayn,“ Niall replies simply, coming to sit next to Harry.

„Is it the guy who didn´t want to kiss you?“

„What? No!“ Niall´s sitting in her favourite position, legs tucked underneath, bony knees in blue denim sticking out. She´s rubbing her fingertips over her lips, something she does often after playing the guitar. He knows she´s feeling how hot the pads are, because he can see the redness on them.

„Ok,“ he says, relaxing into the arm of the couch. 

Neither of them had brought up the „kissing“ theme since the date day. Nothing much has changed anyway, if Harry´s being honest, and he´s unbelievably relieved that his impetuous idea hasn´t ruined- anything. They´ve never been extremely touchy-feely anyway, only regular touch the goodnight hug when they both happen to be at home, which is now accompanied by a little kiss. Sometimes they catch each others lips, mostly by accident, sometimes it´s a corner of a mouth or a cheek. Harry doesn´t mind it and he likes this kind of closeness between them.

„It was just Zayn, he was here for a guitar lesson,“ Niall declares again, forming the words clearly, as if Harry is a kid.

„Ok,“ Harry repeats when he sees the incredulous face his friend´s pulling.  
* * *  
Zayn comes every week at least once or twice, maybe more often which Harry thinks is a bit too greedy. He´s usually at work at that time, but Zayn´s manly cologne lingers in the flat until the next day, so he knows.

Sometimes he hates that boy. Sometimes he really wants to snap a couple of stalker pics of him to show them to Layla from Storm Models. He can´t decide.

On such days he gladly accepts Liam´s invitations to a few drinks. Liam works in a gym near Tottenham Court Road, but lives in West London too which is very convenient for outings. He´s one hundred percent a non judgemental person, which is often a huge relief for Harry. That also means he can wear an old hoodie and any type of trousers when going out with him. It´s liberating.

This evening they go to The Black Bird just opposite of Earl´s Court station and then for a comedy night to Drayton Arms, which is not far from there.

Because Harry´s comfortable around Liam, and because he´s a bit drunk, after three pints, he tells him about kissing Niall, once they find an empty place in the corner of the cosy pub.

„That was bound to happen, mate,“ Liam nods. „You´ve been good friends, living together,“ he points out, taking a gulp of the lukewarm beer, „I´m actually not surprised at all. Niall is the best and-“ he pauses, looking straight at Harry,“ she´s really hot, you know what I mean.“

„Heyyy,“ Harry whines, doesn´t need Liam to tell him all of this, but also it feels sort of awkward to hear him to refer to Niall as „hot“. Of course Liam likes Niall and vice versa. She´s the most easygoing person Harry´s ever met.

„Do you ever think of- you know- banging her?“

„What?!! “ Harry´s absolutely surprised by the question. By it´s bluntness and also he would never-

„C´mon, she-“

„We are not talking about this, Liam!“ Harry says resolutely.

They´ve shared a decent amount of stories about girls and sex, and it was just a thing that lads do, but somehow Niall being the subject is not okay at all.

Thankfully, Liam doesn´t mention their blonde friend anymore and Harry drowns another couple of pints and a few shots of Jeager for a good measure.

* * *  
November is surprisingly warm and dry. Harry likes this kind of weather, enjoys walking to the magazine office rather than taking a bus, taking every opportunity to go for long wanders (as long as he´s able to manage it, between the internship and the coffee shop job) through Battersea Park. He always feels rather melancholic and slightly depressed in autumn, indoor spaces only making it worse, hence the walks. In these moments he envies Niall. Knows that she is not careless at all, by any means, but her coping mechanisms are much easier and she rarely ever thinks things over. She needs a proper physical activity to de stress herself- like playing football. Her team from Uni has been doing good this season, and Niall is very much into training twice a week and then ideally winning a match twice a month. Harry has seen her playing too many times, at secondary school back home, and now too. He always tells her half-jokingly that football is for men (even though he´s so much for equality) and that she´s going to break both of her legs and that she stinks after the matches. The truth, is he can´t imagine her getting hurt again, and he´s scared shirtless.

* * *  
Louis is Niall´s best female friend. Currently she´s on her fifth cup of Breakfast tea, even though it´s after 9pm, and Harry finds it straightforwardly offending. Niall has taken her along here after their football training in Mile End, which is where Queen Mary´s campus is, and it´s not that far away from Bethnal Green. It is bloody far away from Clampham though, and that´s why Niall usually picks up Harry and they take the train back home together.  
„Can I have one more, love?“ Louis shouts out from the table next to the window, her fringe covering half her eyes now.

„Sure. _Love_ ,“ Harry shouts back, unnecessarily loudly, getting a new mug and the correct tea bag. He´s very, very tempted to switch it for the detox tea or chamomile with ginger flavoured one, just to piss her off.

The initial mistake in his and Louis´ „relationship“ was, that Harry´d shagged her right at the beginning. When Niall introduced them last year when she joined the team, Harry fancied the petite witty girl with cracked voice straight away, admired the way how easily she pulled of the colourful vintage Adidas jumpers while looking cute at the same time. Her sleek brown bob haircut so effortlessly perfect, that Alexa Chung would be green with envy. The magnetic attraction to Louis turned into a reckless one night stand, which also Harry resolutely doesn´t remember. What he remembers is that Louis had laughed at him and that the sex was very bad, and he woke up in a strange bed in Louis´ room with a terrible headache. Then he vomited all over her red Doncaster Rovers sheets, and when he finally managed to get out of the room, he found Louis sitting on a couch with Niall, braiding her blond hair while watching Sky Sports. Only Harry is allowed to ever braid Niall´s hair, in fact. Louis will never understand.

Harry brings over the full cup of tea when Louis disappears to the ladies room.

„What is she doing here?“ he asks Niall quietly, half-heartedly wiping the tables nearby with a disgusting orange cloth.

„I thought you were over it,“ Niall answers, adding more sugar into her decaf caramel moccachino, looking all innocent.

„She thinks I´m pretentious,“ Harry says sulkily, pouting, fixing the blue scarf in his hair.

Niall laughs.

„You shouldn´t have fucked her. That´s definitely made things more awkward.“

„It was a long time ago.“

„And you still can´t stand each other. So whatever.“

„She doesn´t have to be such a bitch about everything.“

Niall´s eyes widen for a second, then she slumps in her chair.

„Don´t talk like this about my friend, alright?“

„I´m just saying-“

„I don´t care,“ Niall doesn´t let him finish. „Do I insult your friends? Like, ever?“

There´s hurt in Niall´s voice, and it makes Harry wince.

„Do you have to listen to your friends talking about having sex with me or avoiding me for the same reason?“ 

There´s no intended malice behind her words, more so that it´s only true. It´s just strange to hear it from her. Harry doesn´t know how to react.

„That´s why we don´t have any mutual friends, Harry,“ Niall finishes at the same time as Louis comes back from the bathroom, smiling cheekily at Harry.

He ignores any sardonic comments coming from her until the end of opening hours.  
When they are sitting silently in the half-empty train with Niall, side-by-side, Harry thinks of what Liam mentioned the other night. Not about wanting to shag Niall, but if Niall herself has ever thought about it. And what does she see when looking at him.

* * *  
The flat in Clampham where they currently live with Niall is originally rented by Carol and Tom, who share the big loft conversion room. Carol is Niall´s cousin from the Irish side of the family, and also the reason why their parents let them live in London. Well, Niall could have just signed-up for a place in campus, but Harry would have been screwed. Because there was no way their mothers would let them live in London at the age of eighteen.

Luckily enough, Carol offered to rent them out the two tiny rooms, because they were saving to buy their own place with Tom after Carol would graduate.

That´s how Niall ended up in a bedroom that was originally a small study, whereas Harry´s used to be a really tiny reception room. The owners cut a half of it and connected it to the kitchen to make some room for lounging there.

However they couldn´t complain, because Carol and Tom are never at home during the week, and visiting Tom´s parents in Milton Keynes during weekends. The rent Harry and Niall pay is ridiculously low when it comes to London and the perfect position of the house, close to the big parks and public transport.

It´s all too lovely, so when Harry finds out that there´s been a huge damp and mouldy stain behind the bookshelf next to the window, he is not surprised. He pays a visit to the local newsagent´s shop where they do sell sprays to get rid of the mould (also they happen to have in stock the latest issue of i-D, which he can´t resist and sacrifices tomorrow´s proper lunch), and returns home to sort out the wall without accidentally knocking the bookshelf over.

Once he´s done with everything, it´s already after 6pm and dark. The article about British fashion sustainability has been waiting for him since yesterday, and he knows he has to finish it by tomorrow. He grabs his old laptop that overheats too easily.

It´s so quiet in the flat that he can hear the hum of the central heating. And Niall is not back yet. He hasn´t seen much of her since the incident in the coffee shop. Well, it was not exactly an incident, but Niall was a bit angry with him, he can tell. She doesn´t get angry easily which only makes the situation worse.

Settling down on the chair, Harry unlocks his phone to send a message.

_where are you?_

Niall´s been having study sessions with Louis at random Starbucks or the university library. He can´t tell if it means she´s avoiding him. Does she think that Harry is a prick for complaining about Louis? Or fucking half the football team? Does she hate him for having his own friends? Harry forcefully blocks all the thoughts.

 _I could get the supper ready?_ he adds. He´s not offering out of guilt, you know. There´s no reason to feel guilty anyways. Right. Right?

_Come home, i´ll make salmon and baked potatoes :)_

He gets up quickly, going to take his coat, so he has a time to buy the food and then cook it before Niall´s back. He´s smiling at the idea of his friend entering the flat, the delicious smell in the air and how she would hug him and then devour the meal. Niall loves food. Like no one else.

When his phone beeps again, Harry´s already opening the door.

_Going out with Louis for a pint. b back later xx_

Harry frowns, retreating back to his room broodily.

_Don´t drink too much, petal !X_

Niall´s very good with drinking in fact, alcohol seemingly doesn´t affect her the same way it affects normal people. She´s half Irish after all.  
Harry wants to have her home, and his room smells like wet paint and mould and he can´t breathe properly. He takes his laptop to the lounge area, and finishes the article before dozing off.

* * *  
„Fuck! Fuuuck!“

Harry starts up on the couch, the laptop sliding down to the floor with a loud thud that would make him wince normally.

„Fuck!“ Niall swears again loudly from the doorway.

Harry sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, groggy as hell.

„´time´s it?“ he asks Niall, startling her too. 

She´s wearing a beige cashmere turtleneck under a khaki parka, and her cheeks are rosy from the chill outside. And the alcohol, Harry suspects.

„Half ten,“ she whispers, moving closer to Harry slowly, limping. As if she could save anything now by not talking loud.

Harry only whimpers, wiping his nose to the sleeve of his old jumper.

„I stubbed my toe, sorry,“ Niall explains. „Why are you not in your bed?“

„The wall´s mouldy. I sprayed it. ´s not helping. Yet.“ His brain is still asleep, judging by the way he´s not able to form full meaningful sentences.

„Ok,“ Niall whispers again.

„´m gonna sleep here,“ and he falls sideways back on the soft couch. Soft but not very roomy, frankly.  
„Don´t be silly,“ Niall dismisses, putting her small hand in Harry´s hair, petting him. Harry doesn´t want to open his eyes. Ever again. Or tonight, at least.

But Niall is insistent.

„C´mon, Harry, get up.“ The hand moves from his hair to his shoulder, squeezing. „We can share my bed, no probs. Alright?“

„Ok,“ Harry murmurs without any intention to move. Hopefully he´ll make her leave.

„Lets go, Harold.“

Harry sighs, standing up and following Niall to her room. She´s persuasive. He knows he would regret sleeping on the couch in the morning, with back pains and stiff knee joints.

The bedroom is a bit smaller than Harry´s, if it´s possible, but the bed is rather big, and looks extremely comfy and welcoming with the pile of variously sized pillows and floral quilt. Harry´s not against flower patterns. Doesn´t mean he´s not a man enough.  
He puts on knee on the mattress, ready to crash there.

„Are you serious? Take the dirty clothes off, man!“ Niall points a finger at him, glaring.  
Harry stops. Turning slowly towards her.

„Normally, I sleep naked,“ he states very slowly and seriously.

„Uhm. No. Get some pyjamas or. Whatever,“ she waves him off without making an eye contact, busy rummaging in the wardrobe.

„I can, like, keep my pants on. Only because it´s you, ´f course,“ Harry grins, getting rid of his trousers and then the jumper. „I´m keeping my socks on too,“ he informs Niall when snuggling into the blankets sleepily.

„Yeah. Good to know,“ Niall deadpans, finally crawling into the bed too, and Harry feels the mattress dip under their combined weights.

It´s dark again, so Niall must have switched the lights off, and their bodies are laying close to each other. They are not touching, but Harry´s soaking up the pleasant warmth radiating from Niall. He wants to sleep.

„Night night, Harry.“

„Night, petal.“

* * *  
The sun is beating down on Harry´s overheated skin, and he loves sunbathing, yes. But he can´t open his eyes to check that he really is on the little Spanish beach they´ve discovered with Gemma by accident during the summer holiday in 2003. Also there can´t be any sun, it´s too dark behind his unopened eyelids. The warmest place of his body right now must be his dick though. It´s on fire actually, and he knows he´s got an erection, which would be very painful. Luckily, he´s able to rub it against a soft surface tightly pressed against his front, which is unbelievably pleasant.The second he makes a little groaning sound, rocking again, he freezes. One hundred percent awake in a nanosecond, eyes snapping open.

The painful reality settles in right after, Harry´s face scrunching. Stupid dreams, morning woods and sleeping best friends.

„Ehm. Harry?“ Niall whispers, clearing her throat awkwardly. She´s completely still and too fucking close to him, her bum pressed into his front, Harry spooning her from behind. But, like, hardcore spooning her from behind. His arm draped heavily over her middle, pulling her to him.

„I need to pee,“ Harry croaks forcefully, not trusting his voice, and runs off to the bathroom in horror. He´s so fast that when he finds himself locking the door behind him, breathing heavily, in a couple of seconds. It´s a record that can´t be broken.

* * *  
For a moment Harry considers lying.

„I- uh- jerked off in the bathroom.“ Ok, so he doesn´t.

„I thought so,“ Niall laughs shortly, sitting on the bed and leaning on the white wall behind her. „You weren´t there long enough to take a shower, but too long to just pee.“

She knows him too well. Harry can´t decide if it´s a good thing or a bad thing.

„I´m sorry for- that,“ he waves to the bed abstractly.  
„Perhaps the time´s up,“Niall says.

„Time for what?“ Harry asks dumbly, sitting back on the bed next to Niall.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling.

„To have actual sex. But, like, it didn´t occur to me that it would be your problem, honestly.“

„Sorry to disappoint you, Niall, I´m not hooking up 24/7,“ he frowns, pretending to be offended.

„No shit!“

„Maybe you should have actual sex,“ he retorts easily, no heat behind the words.

„Yea, might help with the curse.“

„You are cursed? What else are you hiding, Niall Horan?“ Harry jokes, nudging Niall´s thigh with his own.

„It´s called The Virgin curse.“

For the longest moment they stare at each other, sitting in the heap of Niall´s duvets.

„It´s not a curse, Niall,“ Harry breathes. He surely did not know bout this fact. On the other side, he bloody hopes that Niall doesn´t feel embarrassed by confessing it.

„I know,“ she agrees, tracing the flower patterns on the quilt with her finger, focusing on the colourful shapes. „For the longest time I didn´t feel like doing it. The idea of sex- felt strange. I do want it now, but I´m scared, ya know?“

Niall´s big trusting eyes looking up at him. The blue almost unnatural, and Harry remembers how bright they seemed in the contrast with the brown hair before Niall had started bleaching it.

It´s exactly like the moment before he kissed her last month. And Liam´s would you bang her unexpectedly coming up with the full force. Harry´s ability to filter his thoughts before letting them out has been very poor, so he literally bites his lip to stop himself from saying something silly.

„Please tell me you don´t think I´m a loser,“ Niall says pleadingly, misinterpreting his silence.

„No, god. No,“ he reassures her quickly. „It´s actually sort of, umm, sweet.“ He´s not sure sweet describes Niall´s purity in the right way, more like ´endearing´ maybe. Because Niall´s never had sex, no dirty boy has ever put his dick inside her fragile, lovely body, no one has made her come like that, they didn´t hurt her with being insensitive pricks- just what lads are nowadays, they didn´t leave after not knowing they were the first ones, and god he needs to stop. Like, right now.

„You should do it,“ Niall blurts out suddenly. She doesn´t look uncertain anymore, not at all.

„What. Do what?“

„Put your-“

„Niall!“

„I know you. And you are good at it.“

It sounds so sensible to Harry, and yes, he´s good at it, but this is a very awkward conversion. Not a one you should have with your best friend.

„This is like something from a porno,“ he states, shaking his head in disbelief.  
The silence stretches between then, Niall seems like she´s seriously thinking this over.

„Ok… i need to get ready,“ she says at the end.

„What?“

„For the training! God.“

„Okayyy!“

* * *  
Niall´s watching her team score a goal from the bench when her phone signals a new message.

_Ok. Lets do it._

* * *  
On December 8th they go to the switching on of the Chelsea Christmas lights at Duke of York square, because Niall hates big crowds and refuses to attend the Oxford Street ceremony. Their fingers and mouths are sticky from toffee apples as they watch the reindeer and elves, Harry standing behind Niall, arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. His touches are more lingering these days, with an idea of getting physically closer and being comfortable around each other this way. Niall doesn´t laugh off the affection. Instead she gives him little private smiles, and Harry´s heart is swelling.

The last game of the season is a weekend after all the festivities and Harry swapped a shift with the new French bloke Paul (or Jean) to be able to make it there. Niall´s a bloody sick player and Harry doesn´t mind watching the game, even though he gets an occasion hurt look from some of the girls in the team.

It´s pouring down, and he has to run from the station to get to the pitch on time. Relatively. His jeans are soaked from stepping in puddles by the time he finds a good spot to watch, the team already on the green. There´s not a crazy amount of people, but still quite a lot. Some of them had brought umbrellas- clever- although Harry doesn´t even own one. Thankfully, his orange beanie´s been very helpful, and he pulls it over his ears.

He can spot Niall easily, her dark blue jersey with number 1 standing out. Harry will never understand why they play in such heinous, non flattering shirts, even though Niall explained him countless times that dark blue and gold are the colours of the team, and, that the clothes are perfectly comfy and sufficient, serving their purpose brilliantly. She´s also wearing a sports bra, Harry notices, because her chest is really flat, hiding the fact that she´s at least a C cup in fact.

He joins the cheering on occasions, shouting Niall´s name a few times, and buys a hot tea in the refreshments stand to warm up, getting one for Niall too.

During the break, he wanders closer to where the girls are gathered, discussing the game, waiting patiently for Niall to come say hi. He loves seeing her like this, passionate about the sport, red faced and out of breath. Before Niall approaches him, he spots Zayn in the crowd, talking to Louis. Of-fucking-course they know each other.

„Hey,“ Niall greets, taking the tea from him. It´s not particularly hot or warm anymore. 

„Thanks,“ she murmurs before taking a sip.

Her long hair is pulled up in a messy bun, a few sweaty strands of hair plastered to the nape of her neck. Harry pulls them away carefully, touching the soft skin there in the process. Niall shivers.

„Thanks,“ she smiles again and they look at each other for a few moments. The wet mud must have splashed on her face, because Harry notices the tiny brown drops on her cheek. Her clothes are a mess too.

„Are you going to score, Nialler?“ he asks, smiling.

„Sure thing,“ Niall grins, finishing the rest of her tea. „Weather´s real awful, it´s all kinda slippery, but hasn´t stopped me before, right?“

„Yeah.“

„Will score for ya, alright?“

„Yeah,“ Harry laughs at Niall´s mischievous expression.

„Go get them!“ he yells after her when they signal the start of the next period.

The rain has stopped, but the grass and the soil underneath are soaking wet, the mud splashing around the players feet. Harry switches between watching Niall play, who´s doing as amazingly as ever- and Harry feels fucking proud of her- and checking his Instagram.

Just when he looks up, he sees Niall running towards another player with the ball, trying to get it from her. At the same moment, another girl is approaching them speedily, but she slips on the wet ground, tripping up Niall too. It´s so fast, but Harry can see it happening like in slow-motion. The girl´s shoes connecting with Niall´s legs, both of them falling down in a different direction. Niall hits the ground hard, the other girl´s leg underneath her. It looks nasty.

People perk up to watch the scene, it´s like no one is breathing at all. Then the other girl gets up slowly, the rest of the players running towards them, checking on her. But Niall´s not moving.

Harry´s heart stops. He knows something is wrong and it takes him barely a second to move. He runs down the steps, getting closer to the scene. Louis and Zayn are crouching over Niall there too. _No, no, no!_ His breathing is heavy now, it seems that there´s no way he can get enough oxygen in.

„Harry!“ Louis cries out from where she´s hunching over Niall when she spots him. Harry still can´t see Niall properly , doesn´t know what´s going on. The panic is bubbling inside his stomach, and he can´t focus on anything. He gets down next to Louis.

Someone´s calling for ambulance.

„Niall, Niall,“ Harry´s repeating in a low voice, doesn´t understand why he´s not shouting it out when he feels like he could scratch his throat raw with the force of it, all this weird energy running through his veins. It´s poisonous. He feels sick, swallowing uneasily.

Niall lets out a quiet whimper through slightly parted lips, eyes still closed.

„Harry,“ she whispers in a tiny, weak voice.

Harry takes her hand in his, squeezing reassuringly.

„It´s okay, it´s alright,“ he murmurs.

She´s shaking all over, the wetness seeping through her clothes. She´s pale, her cheeks not the healthy pink anymore. Harry can feel her attempt of squeezing his hand.

He quickly takes his black coat off and covers Niall´s small body with it. It´s the Saint Laurent one- the most expensive part of his wardrobe. He got a great deal on it, Nick´s friend wanting to sell it on E-bay. The bloody coat is the last thing he cares about right now.

He´s watching Niall intently for any changes of her impression, any movements of her body. But she´s so so still, her breathing too shallow to be alright. There are people around him, he knows, but doesn´t care. Can´t process any other information than that Niall´s probably in danger, and that she might not be okay at all. The tears welling up in his eyes make his vision go all blurry, but he doesn´t move an inch away from his friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3. I´m planning on writing one or two more.  
> I hope you had a great holidays and all the best in 2015! x

NIALL

Bruised ribs and spinal cord, concussion. Well, it could´ve been worse.

Niall hears voices from the hall, the door left open ajar, and it´s the nurse and Harry. She´s not trying to understand what they are talking about, because she´s sure it´s about her. Harry´s voice is scratchy and eager, probably wanting to know all the medical details even though he wouldn´t understand them.

She´s positioned on her left side, knees drawn up to her chest protectively. The bruises on her ribs are too painful even after all those painkillers, so this is the only way how she can rest right now.

When Harry enters the room, Niall´s eyes track him approaching the bed. The white sheets are scratchy against her bare legs and it´s cold in the room, or she´s cold because of the shock and the nerves. Hospitals are pretty ugly places anyway; the sterile smell making her want to puke.

“Hi,” Harry whispers, kneeling down next to the bed, his hands reaching for Niall´s straight away, almost out of necessity. Niall goes with it gladly, happy for a contact with a familiar person, with Harry, finding an immense comfort in the gesture.

He´s rubbing her fingertips with his thumbs, the back of her hand, her knuckles, pressing his lips to the same places reverently. It takes one look at the boy´s face, and Niall knows he´d been crying, his eyes glassy and red rimmed, red splotches on his cheeks.

“Harry, Harry,” Niall says calmly, almost whispering too, freeing one hand from Harry´s grip to stroke his hair. He´s looking at her with wobbling chin. He hides his face, resting his for head on their hands.

Niall´s heart clenches and a couple of tears spill out of her eyes- one trickling down her temple, and the other one travelling across the bridge of her nose and then following the same patch as the first one. Niall hates crying like this, it´s highly uncomfortable.

“Don´t make me cry, it´s really painful now,” she begs, quivering, trying to keep her breathing shallow.

“Sorry, sorry,” he looks up again, biting his lip, wiping the wet face at the sleeve of his knitted jumper.

“They told me that everything´s alright. Is it? It is, right?”

“Yeah,” she nods, inhaling to calm herself down a bit and then wincing when her bruised ribs ache as the rib cage expands.

Harry tracks the expression with wide eyes and half-opened mouth.

“What? What?” He moves around restlessly, obviously wanting to help somehow.

“It´s just-”, she grits her teeth until the sharp pain faints completely. “It´s just my ribs. They got bruised quite badly, apparently. Nothing´s broken, thank god.”

“I know. The nurse told me,” Harry says, settling down again.

Niall´s hand is still in his brown hair, just resting now.

“God, Niall, you promised this would never happen again. I promised this would never happen again,” Harry says, voice raw, shaking his head pitifully.

She knows what Harry’s implying. The accident with her knee, two years ago. It had always been fucked up from sports, mainly football, and after she had dislocated it and twisted it several times, the only option to keep it in place was a surgery. It was a complicated one, the healing process much longer and painful than expected. Niall missed a massive number of lessons in the last year of school, just before the A levels exams, stressing over it and the fact that playing football might not be an option anymore. Harry´d been around the whole time, helping her out with school and supporting her, witnessing the shameful panic attacks caused by all the strain. It´d been hard, but they made it, sealing their friendship with it.

“Babe,” the endearment slipping out of Niall´s mouth so easily she doesn´t even notice. Her chest is burning with affection, making her hands cup Harry´s cheeks, pulling him closer so their foreheads are touching, and they are breathing the same air.

It is a bit strange angle, but it works.

“´m so tired, Harry,” she mumbles, eyes closed.

“All the x-rays and tests… They gave me some shit for the pain. Louis and Zayn came here, but I was pretending to be asleep,” she frowns and then whimpers when making an unexpectedly painful move. “Could ya- tell them-”

“Shhh,” Harry hushes her, the air from the sound hitting her face. “I will, please don´t worry”

“I think, I think my phone´s not charged and their numbers are there.”

“I´ve brought a charger.” Harry gets up, turning around and pointing at the little table.

“Also, there´s a t-shirt and some- uhm- warm socks, and toiletries,” Harry actually picks up the pink bag that he must have found in Niall´s room, going through things there, searching intently. “Like toothbrush and some toothpaste,” he shows the little blue tub and puts it back. “And I grabbed the set of the shower gel and body lotion I got last week as a sample? It smells of bergamot. You like bergamots, right, Niall?”

It´s funny, but he really waits for Niall to approve, to nod. And she does, can´t help the fond smile stretching her mouth. Harry´s sweet and so good to her.

“Shit, I forgot your hairbrush,” he gasps, putting the little bag aside, looking genuinely stuck. “But I- I´ve brought, the- the tampons. I know your- period is coming. So. Just in case.”

Niall just nods, her eyes catching the black Saint Laurent coat draped over the vacant bed on the other side of the room. Harry follows her gaze, forgetting the fleeting embarrassment from period talking.

“I´m sorry,” Niall says.” I´ll take it to dry cleaners, and hopefully they´ll sort it out.”

“Hey, Niall, don´t worry, yeah?” Harry comes again, sitting on the floor awkwardly.

“Don´t tell my mom, she would freak out,” Niall begs, imagining Maura trying to get to London from Holmes Chapel as soon as possible. “It´s not too bad.”

“Ok,” Harry agrees reluctantly, knows that there´s no point fighting her.

* * *

She sleeps most of the day, under the blissful and strong painkillers´ influence. They make her feel awfully drowsy, but numb the pain around her lower spine and the bruised ribs in the back. She stays only one night, and Harry´s around most of the visiting hours, waiting to accompany her on the way home in the morning. The doctor talks to her before releasing her, explaining that there is no permanent damage, only the concussion and bruised ribs. Niall nods here and there, listening carefully, unbelievably grateful that this doesn´t mean the end of her football career.

It takes them almost 30 minutes to reach the overground station nearby the hospital, Niall finding walking way much harder than usually, figuring out a new way how to move without causing too much pain, short of breath, Harry watching her silently with plaintive eyes.

She dozes off on the train, sleepy from the pills and exhaustion, head pillowed on Harry´s upper arm.

It doesn´t get much better in the next days. She misses the rest of her classes before Christmas, and tells herself that she can work on all the essays now- only she sleeps most of the time anyway, thanks to the strong medication. It´s frustrating, and Niall feels useless, all of this reminding her of the knee surgery that caused her so much trouble. It can´t happen again.

Sadly, the same goes for the guitar lessons that she needs to cancel until after New Year´s. Because of the heavy fall at the field, her spine got hit pretty hard which now causes numbness in Niall´s fingertips. She nearly cried from relief, when the doctor had told her that it was a common thing, the feeling supposed to come back soon.

Harry still goes to work, even though he tries to write from home more often, Niall can tell. He´s weirdly quiet, just sort of matching Niall´s sullen and miserable mood, the two of them dancing around each other awkwardly like never before.

It´s not because of their agreement, the fact that Harry´s willing to take Niall´s virginity. It seems like it´s not. And Jesus, it sound so insane when she puts it like this… It´s Harry waiting outside the bathroom while Niall showers, to make sure she makes it out in one piece; Harry doing grocery shopping on time so Niall doesn´t have to go outside; Harry changing her bed sheets while Niall naps on the sofa, the sleep taking over unexpectedly while watching Come Dine With Me. The thing is- Harry doesn´t talk about it. Usually, cleaning the bathroom or remembering to pay bills or throwing away a milk bottle takes Harry so much effort, and he bitches a lot about it; but he doesn´t mention doing this stuff for Niall now.

* * *

Louis comes to visit many times, sometimes bringing Zayn too, and the girls from the team. Some of them watch out for Harry, spitting out mean remarks and glancing towards his room. Niall ignores them, she can´t undo Harry´s mostly drunk actions; they don´t know Harry the way she does, how he´s so good but also so stupid sometimes. Carefree, painfully open and honest, and acting by his heart.

Niall notices that he drinks more often, coming home drunk more often than not.

The door into her room is opening, the light coming in.

“Harry?”

“Niall. Niall, I was so worried,” Harry´s slurring, moving up on the bed, probably trying to fit next to her.

“Ouch, careful,” she hisses, Harry´s clumsy moves bouncing the mattress, rocking Niall´s sore body. He´s drunk, more than just tipsy, but not too bad either.

“Your face was so pale in the hospital,” he continues, settling down, his eyes searching for hers desperately. “I thought- I thought you were never gonna be alright again.”

“It´s okay, Harry,” Niall soothes, stroking her hand over Harry´s warm forearm. God he smells awful. Like stale beer and an ashtray. She hopes he would get the hint, would go to his room to sleep it off.

The alarm clock next to her bed shows 2:15am with the angry, red light.

“You are too precious to me, do you understand that?” Harry states. “You are too precious,” he repeats, sniffling into the pillow they are sharing now, their heads resting on it together.

Niall bites her lip, warmth spreading in her chest, the love for this silly boy. Before she can say anything, Harry continues.

“I will take such a good care of you.”

Niall´s sleepy brain takes a moment to realise what´s Harry talking about. There´s a certain kind of sensuality when his voice drops lower, something that Niall never experienced herself before, but had heard Harry talking like this to girls. It´s not suggestive, doesn´t make her feel cheap. But there´s a spark of want in her gut.

“I promise,” Harry vows seriously, earnestly.

“Harry, go to bed.” She´s really really tired, exhausted since the hospital. People interrupting her sleep always annoy her, and she needs to fucking rest now.

Harry nods eagerly, then gives her a wet, smacking kiss on her lips and leaves the room on wobbly legs.

* * *

The bruise colours an ugly shade of black-purple, spreading underneath Niall´s right shoulder blade. She grimaces the first time she sees it in the mirror properly, so she decides not to check it again after that. Aside from taking the meds, she has to practice breathing exercises once or twice a day to prevent the lung infections caused by the restricted breathing. Harry usually sits with her, because he knows how to breathe properly from yoga lessons, and is over-excited to share some of the wisdom with her. It´s kind of awkward on the funny side, but Niall can´t giggle or laugh comfortably now, so she just shuts up and concentrates.

The doctor advised icing the bruised tissue, which is kind of hard to do, since there´s no chance Niall can possibly reach her back there.

“Could you help me with the ice pack?” Niall asks when Harry returns from the office in the afternoon. She´s finishing the piece of vegan carrot cake that Harry brought from work yesterday. Eating cheers her up. She´s been sore for the last two hours, moving around gingerly, the pills not really helping. She needs a lot of cheering.

“Yeah, sure,” he answers. He´s wearing a black hat. He dresses up extra nicely when going to the magazine office. Dress to impress, Niall thinks. Even though Harry would probably described it in a different, more sophisticated way. But his nose is red from the cold wind- fashionable or not.

She hands him a pack of frozen peas wrapped in polka-dotty Cath Kidston kitchen towel.

“You want to do it here?” Harry asks. They are both standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“I´ll sit here,” Niall reacts first, the wooden chairs seemingly the best idea. She goes to the table, straddling one of the chairs, her chest leaning on the backrest.

“It´s- uhm- here,” Niall tries to point out, twisting her arm awkwardly around.

“I know,” Harry breaks in, pulling the other chair next to Niall´s until she can hear him settling down too. “

I´ll check,” he mumbles.

Then Niall´s long sleeved American Apparel t-shirt is being lifted at the back, the cool air hitting the exposed skin.

“Shit,” Harry curses behind her. “Bloody hell.”

Niall tenses.

“Can I undo your bra?” he asks, shuffling behind her. “To see the bruise. I think maybe it´s like, pressing down on it? So that´s making it even worse, I suppose.”

Niall nods, arching her back a bit, so Harry can unclasp the hooks more easily. The knuckles of his fingers brush her sensitive skin, and she gasps involuntary.

“Sorry, sorry.”

She can feel her bra loosening up, and then Harry´s putting the ice pack on the bruise. Niall jerks away from it, and when Harry strokes her bare side with a warm hand, she relaxes again, the movement calming her down immediately.

Harry lets out a heavy breath behind her, the exhale tickling the hair on her nape.

“It looks nasty. Shit.”

Well, it does, Niall can´t disagree so she doesn´t say anything back. The coolness from the package soothes the pain quickly, minimising the sharp and throbbing ache into something more bearable. Harry´s other hand is resting on her left flank, his long fingers spanning the uninjured side of her rib cage.

When Harry moves the pack a bit lower, pressing up against more of the heated skin, she jumps up again.

“Just warn me next time, will ya?” Niall bites out, leaning her forehead on the top of the backrest.

“Sorry, babe,” Harry mutters apologetically, and he bends down to brush his lips against the bruise. It must be there, because the soft touch feels unnaturally intense.

She wonders at what point _mate_ has changed into _babe_. When they were teenagers it was a good laugh, something they would call each other just for fun and because. Then Niall realised there´s a difference between boys´ friendship and girls´ friendship and boy and girl friendship, even though she had never perceived it like that. Like two boys shouldn´t hug each other too much, and two girls shouldn´t watch action films together, and- god forbid- boy/girl best friends shouldn´t, can´t share a bed, because if they do they are friends with benefits. They used to go against the stream with sleepovers and clothes sharing, and no one cared as long as they didn´t. But then Harry became extremely interested in girls, started acknowledging the attention, and calling Niall mate meant she´s the friend he would never think about in a romantic or sexual way. It hurt. It doesn´t hurt so much anymore.

Harry moves on his chair again, probably getting more comfortable, and then there´s more soft soft kisses, and tender touches of his fingertips to the purple mark, stroking and caressing ever so lightly. It feels slightly strange at first, Niall freezing on the seat, breathing even shallower than before. Because, what is Harry doing? But then she remembers it´s her Harry and the sensations are so comforting and just nice, that she stops thinking altogether.

“I´ve been thinking,” he starts, leaning forward, whispering the words to where her t-shirt is rucked up, “for the- thing, we can do it before you go to Ireland?”

“O-okay,” Niall breaths out, not expecting this issue to be brought up. Also she almost forgot about going to her dad´s this Christmas.

“Maybe we can try other things first? To figure out what you would like.” Harry keeps brushing his lips against the bruise and all over the exposed skin of her back while talking, his palm stroking these broad sweeps over her sides. Niall´s face is on fire suddenly. She´s not sure if it´s an embarrassment or the affection, or simply Harry .

“Yes, that sounds- reasonable,” she chuckles, because it feels like too much suddenly, and also she doesn´t know how else to react.

“And whenever you change your mind you just tell me, Nialler, okay, ´cause this is important.”

“Mmhm.”

And what is worse? Harry being this achingly sweet with her, this open (like always, so that is not a surprise in the end) or his soft touches that leave her burning, and she doesn´t mind. She wants more perhaps.

Because Harry loves catching people in his invisible net; showering them with attention, making them feel like they are special and making them love him back, even if just for a little while. At the beginning it was hard to not to be jealous. It´s not too bad anymore. Not too often Niall thinks if Harry´s been only tricking her. If he´s been laying traps for her too.

** *

The Christmas is near, and going to the city center is almost unbearable because of the mad last minute shoppers. Niall wouldn´t know, she´s been taking it easy, spending her time mostly at home, but Harry fills her up, rambling on and on, probably feeling how anxious and restless Niall´s been.

She Skypes with her dad and arranges the whole trip to Dublin and then Mullingar, excited about visiting Ireland again- her favourite country.

In all honesty, Niall forgets about making out with Harry, or whatever they are supposed to do, before she gets home from a quick walk in Battersea Park. There´s a Peppa Pig sticky note on the fridge saying: _Ni, keep calm and eat pizza. The other stuff is for later. Hx_

Niall, giggles, taking the premade PizzaExpress out, trying not to peek at what else is there waiting for dinner. They have their little Christmas Eve every year, celebrating by eating their favourite dishes that Harry prepares, Niall buying nice napkins and the pudding.

It all comes back at once when she´s in the bathroom, realising that she should probably shave her legs properly, and armpits and her pussy- or at least like, update the last shave. She doesn´t use wax, thank you, she likes herself too much for that kind of an unnecessary pain. Also, her hair´s desperately calling for a proper haircut and bleach, the darker roots clearly visible; she could paint her fingernails and- toes? And use the special shimmery body lotion that gives her eczema on one side, but makes her skin super soft on the other one. Her head is literally spinning when she´s searching for nail clippers, bumping her head in the open cabinet above. She curses loudly, sitting on the bathtub edge, biting her nails. Ridiculous. Then she gets up resolutely, upset with herself, deciding that a shot of Tullamore Dew and _notworrying_ would be the best after all.

She emerges her room twenty minutes later, after eating two chocolate bars- for the nerves- and checking the football matches scores. She knows Harry´s back, pottering around the kitchen, The 1975 playing from his laptop. He looks over his shoulder, giving her a crooked smile, showing off his dimples and sparkly eyes. Niall helps to set up the table.

Her hands are shaking when she picks up the cutlery later, when the meal is ready. God, she´s ridiculous. This is ridiculous. She lets out a laugh, tilting her head back.

“What?” Harry asks, holding the plates in his hands, ready to serve.

Niall raises her hands again, holding them out above the table. They are trembling visibly. She makes a face _There you go_ , lifting her eyebrows.

Harry smiles fondly, putting the full plates away.

“C´mere,” he nods and bites his lower lip, blinking slowly.

Pushing off the table, Niall finds herself standing between Harry´s legs as he´s leaning on the kitchen counter. It feels like a deja vu.

Harry´s arms sneak around her, pulling her towards his chest and Niall hides her face in the crook of his neck, the warm skin against her nose and lips. Harry´s rocking them gently, holding on tight.

“Are you nervous?” Harry murmurs into her hair.

“Yeah,” Niall breaths out, bashful. „I want to do it now, even if I freak out.” And it´s helping that she doesn´t have to look at Harry, and that he´s holding her, making her feel safe and also kinda giddy from all the electrifying energy running through her body.

“Would you kiss me now?” she shifts away so they are face to face.

Harry does.

* * *

They are kissing, laying vertical on Niall´s bed, and the wet sounds of it echoing in the quiet room. If feels good, so good. The best making out she´s every experienced, every slide of Harry´s tongue and soft press of his hand against her side making her want to moan but she holds it back. He´s thorough, systematic, dragging his lips over Niall´s cheeks and behind her ears, on the pulse points. At first, the sparks of arousal that he´s causing with his actions surprises Niall, but after a while she only wants more.

“God, Harry,” she breaths out heavily, one hand in Harry´s curly hair, the other on under the hem of his shirts. He´s on top of her, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Yeah?” he says, voice hoarse in a way Niall´s never heard before, busy with sucking on the skin of her throat.

She didn´t mean anything by it. It was just oh, good god.

“Take this off,” she tugs on his top.

Harry rises, getting on his knees and takes off both his t-shirt and the dark grey jumper in one go. Niall watches him. And she´s seen Harry half-naked many times, but never like this. The tattoos stand out against the paleness of his torso and arms, his nipples hard from the chill. He´s looking down back at Niall, waiting. She hesitantly reaches out, tracing her fingertips over the moth sitting above Harry´s stomach.

“This one is my favourite.”

She moves down over his defined abs to the laurels, using her short nails to scratch paths on the smooth surface. Harry visibly shudders.

Getting bolder, Niall keeps moving her hands over his chest too, as high as she can reach, her nail catching on a nipple on its way.

This time Harry sucks in air audibly, tensing. Niall glances up curiously, their eyes meeting. She wants to ask million questions about what makes him feel good and what does he enjoy, but instead she sits up as far as she can with Harry straddling her thighs, following his suit and taking her t-shirt off clumsily.

Harry´s studying her for a few seconds, frowning like he does when he´s concentrating or thinking, before he surges forward to kiss her again, cradling her face in his large palms.

It proceeds smoothly from there, they kiss messily, hotly; both of them touching the newly revealed skin, and then shedding the rest of their clothes only to return to heated kisses and curious touches, mapping the areas they didn´t know before in such an intimate way. Niall finds a spot under Harry´s sharp jaw that makes Harry groan while she sucks on the hot skin there repeatedly, grinning proudly. Because hearing Harry´s grunts and guttural moans while they rut against each other, is arousing like nothing else- hearing him losing control by her own actions.

“Are you wet, Niall?” Harry´s voice is muffled from where he´s mouthing on her breasts through the soft, lacy bra.

“Yeah,” and she doesn´t know why he needs a confirmation when he must feel her damp crotch against his own skin where´ve been pressing up together.

“Can I touch you there now?” he asks, pulling off of her to rest at her side, fingers tracing over her belly and on top of her pants. God, he looks so focused on the task, on her, and this kind of attention from Harry is overwhelming.

Niall nods, wide-eyed, but she surprises herself when Harry ´s hand sneaks into her underwear and she doesn´t stiffen but relaxes into his touch instead. They are stretched out side by side, facing each other, so close that they are sharing the same air. Niall´s still mainly on her back to give Harry a better access.

He flicks his finger across her clit and she moans, hands clenching by her sides, and Harry kisses her softly, touching the hair framing her face with his free hand.

He´s stroking her between her folds, coming across her clit again a few times, eliciting more moans and half sobs, and Niall feels so embarrassed at how loud she is, how slutty it must sound. She brings her hand up to her mouth to muffle the half sobs subtly.

“No, no,” Harry takes her hand away when he notices what she´s trying to do. “Wanna hear you, babe. Please, let me hear you,” and with that he pushes a finger in, making Niall´s breath catch in her throat.

He starts thrusting in and out, slowly, and then with more force, and Niall´s lost in the sensation, not even thinking about how weird her previous experiences were with guys doing the same.

Harry adds a second finger when she beings to thrust against his hand in the rhythm he´s set up, meeting him halfway needily, trying to put some pressure on her clit too.

“How is it?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against Niall´s, and he´s breathing heavily now too.

“Good, so good,” she moans, eyes closed with the pleasure, seeking Harry´s lips blindly.

Their kiss is more tongues touching outside their mouths than anything, but it's this closeness that counts, Niall chasing her orgasm with the measured moves of her pelvis and Harry´s clever touches against the spot within her.

“I want to be in you.” It´s said almost inaudibly, but Niall can hear him even through the buzz of blood in hear head, moans a “yeah” , can feel herself clench around his fingers in response.

“Harry,” she pleads for something that she doesn´t know herself, arching the small of her back from the bed, the cool air hitting the sweaty skin there.

“Open your eyes, babe, c´mon,” Harry prompts.

And Niall does, even when it takes a lot of effort, and she blinks blearily before focusing on Harry´s face. He looks so sexy in this moment- pupils blown wide and lips deliciously red. She´s teetering on the edge of her orgasm, but Harry´s intense gaze making it hard to let go. She wants to hide, closing her eyes again, turning her head away from the boy.

“Please, Niall,” Harry begs, fingers moving restlessly fast. “

I want to see you. Want to see what I´m doing to you,” he says hotly, brushing his thumb over her cheek so tenderly in contrast to his other hand, and she does look back at him with all the self-control that´s remaining in her, and then she´s coming, fighting the natural urge to close her eyes in the ecstasy,

Instead she focuses on Harry, who is staring back at her in something like a sacred awe. Her breath comes out in little gasps, her whole body shaking, her forehead scrunching up, mouth slack.

Harry looks like he wants to say something, so she kisses him quickly, reaching to his black boxers where he´s achingly hard, pulling him into his own orgasm with rough strokes and clever twists of her wrist. It´s over too quickly, Harry coming between them, his warm come hitting Niall´s tummy, and she cuddles to him before he manages to catch his breath. They stay wrapped up together, sleep taking them by surprise.

* * *

Niall wakes up two hours later, her arm completely numb under Harry´s heavy weight.

„Move,“ she grumbles, frowning.

Harry groans and moves, budging up on the bed. It´s not even that late, Niall realises. But it´s chilly, they are almost naked and her pants are still wet from before. She wants to take them off and crawl under the sheets. Instead there´s her best friend Harry in her bed, in a very similar situation.

„I wanna cuddle, Niall,“ the brunet whines, pulling her towards him so her head is resting on his chest. What a cliché.

She can hear his heart beating steadily. It´ calming.

„I hate hearing my own heartbeat,” she mumbles sleepily, both of them unmoving, eyes closed. „It´s making me anxious.”

Harry scoffs, running his fingers up and down Niall´s forearm softly, making her want to squirm- in a good way.

„I like my heartbeat. It´s saying: I´m alive, I´m alive.“

„You are very alive indeed, Harry Styles,“ Niall laughs.

Harry is the most alive person she knows.


	4. Chapter 4

After New Year´s they have planned a brunch with Louis, Zayn and Liam. Because there is no way in hell that Harry would go only with Niall´s friends. And since they both know Liam it makes sense. And he´s a nice lad too, a bit thick but funny and cool. A little bit too laid back, but Niall´s fine with that.

It´s all colourful and lively in Battersea´s The Breakfast Club and Harry wanted them to go to his coffee in Bethnal Green to save money, but they decided to come here anyway, for the occasion of celebrating the new year and also Niall´s successful recovery. They sit at the wooden table from 60´s, next to a very bright turquoise wall. Niall beams at everyone, feeling positive about life in general. She´s wearing a dress and make-up to look nice, to feel nice, and Harry´s been giving her these odd looks since they left the flat. It´s so hard to live next to a self-proclaimed fashion guru. So instead of constantly fighting with him over every article of clothing Niall has every owned, she doesn´t really dress up. But she does like to wear pretty clothes, she´s a girl after all, even though Harry forgets that sometimes.

They kissed in the bathroom that morning, after brushing their teeth side by side, hovering above the basin. It was an impulse kiss, Niall thinks, but apart from that one and then another little snog nothing´s happened. Sometimes, Niall is so glad that they´ve been friends for this long and from relatively young age, otherwise she knows for sure she would fall for Harry just as anyone else. She learnt naturally how to resist his breathtaking charm. What else was she supposed to do. 

The conversation between all five of them flows, even though Zayn and Louis never met before, and Niall is excited by it, loves being surrounded by a group of familiar people. And Harry´s trying, he does, politely passing pepper and barbecue sauce, shooting broody stares to Zayn only very occasionally. Niall can´t quite believe it, that he´s jealous because of her. On that account, Harry smiles a lot, showing off his bloody dimples, or talks to her like she´s the center of the universe and her heart still skips a beat every fucking time.

„What´s up with you two?“ Louis looks from Niall to Harry and then backbackagain. She sounds bitter, because Zayn and Liam have been in best stomach muscles exercises conversation for the past fifteen minutes. „Oh my god- you fucked,“ she says as it´s a revelation of the year, eyes widening comically.

„Louis! No, that´s not true!“ Niall protests loudly, staring at her from her side of the table, where Harry and Liam are sitting as well.

„I don´t think you should talk like this to your friend,“ Harry says calmly from his place.

„But you did fuck, didn´t you?“ she continues crudely.

„Have you and Zayn fucked?“ Harry returns the question swiftly, looking annoyed now, leaning forward over his plate.

„What!?“ both Niall and Liam asks, Liam sputtering a bite of his apple and cinnamon toast all over the tablecloth, holding in a laugh.

„Don´t think so, mate,“ Zayn drawls out, leaning on the back of his chair casually, not letting anything upset him. „I don´t swing that way.“

Harry looks at Niall, betrayed and confused, but she´s beyond herself, can´t do or say anything, only shaking her head in disbelief at this scene.

„Yeah,“ Zayn clarifies, hiding a little smile behind the glass of juice. „If I would fuck anyone here- it would be Liam,“ and he sneaks a glance at Liam, winking.

„Thanks mate. I guess,“ Liam replies with a shrug, wiping the white tablecloth with a napkin.

This sort of kills the mood for the rest of the time, Niall´s ears still burning from Louis question. Harry doesn´t talk anymore and she refuses to look his way. Liam and Zayn are completely oblivious to the situation, entertaining Louis with FIFA talk and she laughs obnoxiously.

“That was seriously ridiculous,” Niall states when they say goodbyes and begin walking along the river towards Battersea Park. She´s still pissed, literally shaking with it.

“What?” Harry turns to her. “Why didn´t you tell me Zayn was gay.”

“What?!” she shakes her head furiously, stopping. “How is that important?”

“I thought- I thought-“ Harry struggles, completely perplexed, but Niall can´t deal with that now.

“Whatever,” she cuts in. “Are you planning on acting nicely to my friends?! Why you can´t be normal?!” She´s hurt beyond words, angry tears stinging in her eyes. She turns around on her heel, walking away from the boy.

“Where are you going?” Harry calls behind her back, his voice unsure.

“I´m taking a bus!” she screams back, marching towards the closes bus stop.  
* * *

Niall gets home, changes into more comfortable clothes and starts studying for the upcoming exams. Only she can´t concentrate at all, her mind drifting away to the brunch and how embarrassing it was, how upset she´s with Harry and how he´s always so fucking rude to all of her friends. Which is like totally inappropriate and very surprising, considering that Harry loves when people love him and hates when the dislike him. She honestly can´t wrap her mind around it. Also Louis is such a bitch too, for making stupid comments, and it fucking sucks to be disappointed by two of her best friends in one day. 

She´s been reading one line for the past five minutes, she realises, and closes the history book resolutely, biting on her fingernail nervously. Harry´s still not back, and even if he walked he should be back already. She thinks more about him, braiding the loose strands of her hair into thin plaits absently. It seems that sometimes he forgets that the world doesn´t evolve around him. What a brat.

Then Louis calls, inviting her to a study session in the university library with an apologetic voice, promising a healthy bite at PFC (Perfect Fried Chicken) because students get 20% off there. Niall hesitates because she should wait for Harry to come so they can talk, despite the fact she absolutely hates post-arguments talks, not knowing what to say or how to describe her feelings.

But she does go there, taking the train to get to Mile End after another hour of pointless waiting for her friend to return. She doesn´t call or text him, and neither does he. It´s frustrating and she starts having doubtful thoughts about her previous behavior, because maybe she was too harsh to Harry, and now he hates her. By the time she finds Louis hunched over the books and papers she´s almost ready to move out from the flat, to give them some space and just get over it. Everything. Harry.

Louis looks up and hugs her with “Oh, Ni,” and Niall can´t help the self-pity, sniffling into her thick scarf, crying quietly over the stupid fight. She tells Louis everything as they forget about the studying and eat a huge load of chips and fried chicken nuggets at Perfect Fried Chicken.

She nearly dies on the way home, jittery and anxious she bites her cuticles until she can taste blood, listening to Eagles, thinking about million ways how to apologies to Harry for being mean, and maybe packing up her things, calling Tom or Carol that she wants to leave.

She finds Harry in his room, sitting on the bed watching Die Hard, a bowl of cranberries in yogurt next to him. He literally jumps up when he sees Niall, closing the laptop hastily.  
“Hi,” he says but doesn´t smile. He´s the serious Harry. Niall´s least favorite one.

“Hello,” she waves awkwardly, standing at the end of the bed on her parka, a baseball hat covering her unwashed hair.

Harry attempts to stand up, changing his mind the next moment. “I´ve been- waiting for you.”

“I was waiting for you too, but then I went out to meet Louis,” Niall explains simply, trying not to sound too sad or hurt, although her voice is a bit scratchy.

“I know, she called me.”

“Did she?” Niall asks dubiously, playing with the zip on her jacket, expression carefully blank.

“Yeah… She said that-,” Harry looks away, “-that you want to move out.”

Niall shuffles her feet on the carpet, crossing her arms, nearly hugging herself.

“Niall, do you want to move out?” Harry asks when she doesn´t say anything, voice breaking slightly on the last word.

She shakes her head. Because she doesn´t, really. Even when she was so angry, she can´t imagine being without Harry´s constant presence. 

“But, like- Niall, you can´t just say something like this.”

His eyes are tracing her movements as she takes of her scarf, cap and jacket, throwing it on the chair before showing her hands into the pockets of her skinny jeans to stop the urge to bite at her nails.

“I was giving Zayn the guitar lessons,” she starts, defensive but also slightly affronted, Harry perking up when hearing Zayn´s name, “in exchange for a tattoo. He works in a tattoo parlor and I wanted to give you sort of a voucher to get a new one there. For your birthday.” Let’s not mention that making Harry jealous was a great ego boost.

This time it´s Harry who is speechless, gaping at her.

She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for something she didn´t want to do a few moments ago.

“It actually really fucking bothers me, Harry,” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly, “the way you talk to people I care about.”

She moves to stand next to Harry, feeling bolder when she´s towering over him.

“Have I ever been purposely rude to Nick or any of your hipster fashion friends?”

Harry sucks in a quick breath but doesn´t say anything straight after. Niall knows how much he hates when people refers to them as hipsters because he feels even more pretentious than he actually is.

“I´m actually like really genuinely trying to be nice to them, because I know that it´s important to you, and also I don´t necessarily judge them only because I don´t know them well.”

“It´s not like that,” Harry admits, shifting restlessly, looking uncomfortable.

“Then what is it, Harry, because I honestly can´t imagine-“

“They are taking you away from me!” Harry cuts in, standing up too so the points of their shoes are almost touching.

Niall is absolutely taken aback by his statement, but recovers quickly, shouting back.

“And I can´t feel like your friends are taking you away from me?! This is so unfair!”

“I don´t want you to forget me. You are already thinking about moving out,” Harry says petulantly, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Niall isn´t sure she can survive more of upset Harry, the heavy emotions basically coming off of him in waves. 

“I want to be your favorite person.”

“You are my favorite person.”

“I´m not going anywhere,” she reaches for Harry´s forearm, the one with the rose and mermaid. “And no one can take me away from you,” she finishes tentatively, thinking that maybe Harry needs this bit of reassurance. They´ve never had to put their friendship under a microscope to analyze it. But if Harry´s been unsure about where they stand, Niall is ready to show him how much she wants him in her life. Harry´s confession makes her ache.

“I want to kiss you,” Niall says, blushing as the words leave her mouth. Although she doesn´t feel stupid because with Harry there´s only ever been honesty. 

He blinks down at her, a gentle smile on his face, and a shadow of something darker from the conversation before. He runs a hand across Niall jaw before cupping it, watching her like he’s trying to figure her out. 

The kiss lasts a few minutes as they properly get into it, Niall whimpering, biting on Harry´s plump lower lip. He sits back on the bed pulling her down without breaking apart, until she´s settled on his lap. Niall pulls back, resting her forehead on Harry´s shoulder, breathing deeply before having the courage to look Harry into his face.  
He looks good, his curls soft and shiny, big green eyes slightly narrowed and his lips pink and lush, shining with spit. Harry´s so casual about being attractive, effortlessly good looking, and of course he knows about it, sure, but it doesn´t seem to be a big deal to him. 

He´s working on Niall´s tartan shirt before she knows it, unbuttoning it, mouthing at every newly revealed patch of skin. After some hassle he opens the cuff buttons too, licking over the pulse points on her wrists over and over, making Niall shiver while they take the shirt off together. 

She´s sitting on Harry´s thighs, knees pressing to the mattress next to his hips and she´s wearing only her black bra. It´s her favorite, keeping her boobs nicely in place while looking presentable and girly. Not like those cotton ones she loves to wear for sports. Her chest is the same lever with Harry´s face and she blushes furiously, expecting Harry to start touching her there too, kinda wishes for it actually, but at the same time it feels too personal.

Harry hesitates, as if feeling her nervousness, stroking over her hips and sides and belly, his palms rustling quietly at the contact, calming her down. 

“Aren´t you cold?” he asks mindlessly, planting soft kisses to her shoulders and arms which are resting on his shoulders. 

Niall shakes her head.

“You smell lovely,” he says, nosing at the skin he´s been kissing, “like before. Like always.”

It´s just the bergamot shower gel, she wants to say, but doesn´t, concentrating on Harry´s touches and how amazing it makes her feel, tingling all over.

“Can I- do you want me to touch you again?” and his hands are skimming the button of Niall´s jeans.

Niall´s breath hitches in her throat. „Yes.“

„Ok.“ He nuzzles into her collarbone and then a bit lower, his chin brushing the top of her boobs. Niall loves being touched there, even though there was only a couple of boys who did it to her, and she arches her back momentarily, lets out a sigh. 

Harry looks up quickly, searching. “There? Is this nice?” he asks, cupping her left breast in his palm, strokes around the hard nipple a few times. 

“Yeah,” Niall nods, holding his stare, arms tightening around him, fingers intertwining behind his neck.

He kisses her through the bra, mouthing onto the soft flesh, the silky material rubbing damply over her nipples. The sensation goes straight to Niall´s core and she rocks against Harry´s crotch, feeling how hard he is under his trousers.

He keeps glancing at her with, eyelids heavy, checking her expressions, and she can´t do anything else than bite at her lip and palm at his cheeks and the sharp jaw, settling on his neck finally, bringing his mouth closer to her as he pushes the black material aside to take her nipple between his lips. He sucks on it gently, and then bites after hearing Niall´s encouraging sounds. Because Harry´s soft, full lips are coming to close around her nipple, his tongue poking out to lave over it, and it´s more sexy than anything she´s ever seen, as she watches silently. All she can do is rock down again and again, knowing that she could probably come just from this. 

Harry´s getting off on this as much as she is, if she can judge from the way his hips cants up against hers, creating a sweet friction.

“What else do you want, babe?” he asks, flushed and breathless. 

She stills, her hands in his hair, fingers brushing his ears. “I want you to want me too.”

“You have no idea how much I do,” Harry says earnestly, squeezing her waist, and it hits Niall- they are doing this and she wants it and wants her Harry, all of him, now and always.  
Then Harry flips them over and Niall´s laying on the bed, underneath him, his heavy weight comforting instead of crushing. There´s no frantic pushing and tangled limbs, hurried clothes pulling, tongue sucking and teeth clicking. Instead it´s slow and careful and intense and Harry´s guarded moves and how he moves her around.

And then Harry´s sliding in, Niall´s heart pounding fast as she tries to relax and calm down. He keeps asking her _is this okay, babe?_ and _don´t wanna hurt you_ , murmuring words of encouragement and praise; and that´s it, the connection is there and it´s hard to describe, and he´s moving in her, in and out. It´s a bit strange and it hurts a little, and she knows she can´t come just from this, but doesn´t mind, because Harry´s here and they are one. He´s trembling much more than she is, from holding back, the muscles in his thighs straining where she´s touching him, feeling the coarse hairs, loving the way his breath changes when she touches his body, even though not as expertly as he can touch hers.

When Harry comes, he captures her lips in a searing kiss half-moaning into it, their chests pressed together. Niall thinks she´s cheating, because she opens her eyes to see the look his face, which is hard from this up close, but she manages and can see Harry´s eyes screwed closed and eyebrows knitted together, the hair around his ears darker than normally with sweat. He groans brokenly, hands pressing hard to Niall´s tender flesh, stilling for a long second before he starts moving shallowly, prolonging his orgasm.

It´s so so hot and intense despite the slight soreness she can feel now; and Niall moans too, kissing Harry´s slack mouth and down to the stubbled chin and jaw, knowing that he´s emptying his cock into the condom and that if he wasn´t wearing one, she would be able to feel the come inside her. She whimpers at the thought, surprising herself how much the thought turns her on, more so that Harry´s not- he´s-

“Niall, god,” Harry huffs, pulling out and making her hiss. He tosses the used condom away without moving away too far. He looks feverish when he sneaks his hand down between them to replace his cock with his fingers, getting Niall off like this- paying an attention to her clit, as if knowing how sensitive and kinda sore she is inside now. 

After it´s over Niall sneaks out of the bed first, going to take a shower rather than cuddling, leaving Harry behind her. Because they are friends, not a couple in love, and she doesn´t want to make it awkward and, well, hard with cuddles and affection, although she knows it´s what she wants now, what her body wants on instinct. She can´t help but cry in the shower, washing Harry away, full of emotions and odd longing.  
* * *

When Niall comes out of the shower, after calming herself down properly, Harry´s gone. She knows it even without actually looking for him. After many years of friendship and a year of living together, she can tell when the flat is empty, Harry-less. It is now. She goes to his room anyway, to see with her own eyes what her mind doesn´t want to believe. The bed is made up hastily and there´s no real evidence of what happened there before. Niall swallows through the big lump in her throat. This- hurts. It´s not like she expected Harry to propose, but going out god-knows-where straight after is a bit fucking rude. On the other side- she´s never been in a similar situation, so maybe it´s not weird but a standard behavior when shagging a best friend. As if.

Two hours later she´s sitting on the sofa, stuffing herself with yesterday´s leftovers, debating wheather or not should she go out to buy chips from the Kebab place down the street. The ache in her chest is kinda dull now, drowned out by the beginning ache in her stomach from eating too much.

On the small screen, Kourtney Kardashian kicks Lord Disick out of their house. Niall opens the button on her trousers to stop digging in her bloated belly, thinking that she would never have a courage to kick someone out of her life, more so when the person would be her child´s father, and that she would rather go herself. She would rather go herself.  
The situation in Kardashian/Disick household is nothing like in Horan/Styles, but an idea is born in Niall´s head, the only reasonable outcome and solution- she needs to leave. An echo of the morning´s event comes back in full force, Harry not tolerating her other friends and bloody pissing her off. Maybe it was not even that bad, maybe Niall needs a little change. She doesn´t want to leave Harry. She does need a time away from him though. They both do. Especially after having sex, Niall muses, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes.  
She calls her mum.  
* * *

It takes Harry exactly 3 hours and 11 minutes to start freaking out after Niall doesn´t answer his text from the morning, where he´s explaining that he´d gone to Nick´s the evening before, _emergency_ , and went to the coffee shop straight from there in the morning. Niall scoffed, _emergency- yeah_ , and ignored the message, partly hurt and partly angry, already on the way from London-Euston to Holmes Chapel. She decides to block Harry for a while, after texting a quick _going home for a bi_ t, knowing she wouldn´t be able to resist contacting him back. Harry hates being ignored. Niall´s not sure if this is some sort of a revenge, it feels awfully like punishing herself instead.

Her mum is tremendously happy to see her, of course, and she meets up with Greg and Theo and all her relatives and childhood friends. Basically anything to keep herself occupied and her mind off of Harry Styles. On the other side, she thinks about him a lot in a new way, with a decent amount of unexpected longing and desire. Maura knows what is it about, Niall presumes, when Niall doesn´t mention Harry at all, unlike any other time. 

On the third night she wakes up from a dream she can´t remember, only the lingering feeling from it still present. Harry was there too. A long string of scenes flashes in front of her eyes- Harry waiting for her to walk to school together, his first Chelsea boots he bought in London, his dimples when he smiles only at her, Harry sitting on a chair getting the boat tattoo done, Harry moving above her and looking like she´s the best thing he´s ever seen, the first boy, men, to have sex with. It´s not a reason to not to be friends anymore, it´s not making her want him less. She wants him more, because of all of that. God. Because Harry´s the one. The one who´s been fanning the flames inside her and keeping her soul awake, the one who she wants to hide with in the day between Saturday and Sunday, the one who loves her unconditionally and who she loves back. She wants to give him every part of her, more than he´s already taken. All of it. 

Niall reaches for her phone frantically and re reads the texts Harry´s sent over the last days.

_Eat, drink and be cozy xx  
Come back_

_Are you awake?_

_I fucking miss you_

_Just be fucking honest about how you feel about people_

_I´ll always care for you, even if we are not together._

_I wanna see u_

_Niall? I´ll never call u mate again_

She calls him in the morning, trying to sound friendly, not flinching at Harry´s unnaturally hoarse voice. She tells him she´s coming to London, to meet at Euston.  
* * *

It´s crispy cold when she gets out of the train at noon, instantly swallowed up by the mass of rushing people. She zips up her parka, heading outside to the meeting point. The anticipation and nervousness she felt the whole time in the train have transformed into a light nausea. She´s not scared though. She wants to tell Harry how does she feel, wants to take the risk. There´s a chance he might be feeling the same, judging on the texts and desperate voice mails.

The moment she spots him, she´s sure that´s where it all has been coming to. Harry´s nose is turning a deep pink, lips chapped from the harsh winter wind, and his hair are wildly flowing around his face. The black thick Saint Laurent coat is keeping him warm, and it´s not dirty from mud, but clean. Harry must have taken it to drycleaners after all.

“Let me take the bagpack,” Harry insists when he sees her, making grabby hands at it.

“No, it´s not heavy,” Niall dismisses him softly.

There´s a worried frown on his face, but he gives her an uncertain smile.

“Thanks for coming back, Niall.”

Maybe she hears the unspoken _to me_.

“I shouldn´t have left, before. I didn´t know how to react. You seemed like that was it for you, the- the sex.” He glances down on his shiny black shoes. “I didn´t want to intrude.”

“That´s ridiculous, Harry.”

“I didn´t know what to make of all of it… And then you left again, after promising you don´t want to leave.” Harry´s hurt, his voice trembling slightly, fingers playing with the silver rings.

“I know,” she admits, searching for the right words. “I needed a space to think. I had to, Harry. I couldn´t think with you around.”

Harry´s eyes snap back to hers, scowling.

“I couldn´t think,” she continues forcefully, having to get it out before it´s late, “I couldn´t think around you, because after we slept together it only start these ideas in my head. Like, that were not so platonic.”

Harry stares. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“It was not only my best friend Harry, you, anymore. It´s changed with the- the sex. I think. It only showed me what I had been probably aware of before, subconsciously.” She dares to glance up again, has to. “I like you more than a friend,” she confesses. It´s quiet. “That´s what I know now.”

And she´s so ready to leave if Harry won´t answer in the next five seconds, she swears, she can´t bear more of this, already exhausted from the newly discovered emotions and the nervousness. They are looking at each other and Niall can´t read Harry´s expression which scares her, and she´s maybe panicking, turning around and making a step in a different direction when he feels Harry´s hand reach for her, his fingers curling around her forearm forcefully, turning her back to him.

“I want nothing more than you. I swear. It´s-- scary. But I know I do want it. You,” he gushes out, almost manic, leaning down so they are face to face, only centimeters apart.   
Harry takes her hand in his urgently, bringing it underneath her coat, where he´s warm, laying them over his heart.

“You know what is it saying?” he says urgently, challenging, his expressive eyes searching for answers in hers. ”It´s saying: Niall, Niall, Niall.”

Niall smiles, because she can feel it now too. And all is good.

 

“We were almost lovers, always more than friends but less than a couple. Truth to be told, I can never let you go for I love you so deeply.” -unknown

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate any constructive criticism and comments, so don´t hasitate to leave some.  
> You can find me on tumblr -notverypunkofme


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